Ben shook his head. “I don’t think that many people knew about it at first. Tuesday stayed in school and claimed an aunt was living with her. Only she didn’t have an aunt. By the time folks figured out no one was there to watch over the girl, she was seventeen. So, I guess they just let her stay.”

Ketch’s voice rose in anger. “Are you telling me Tuesday lived out there alone?”

“I guess everyone thought someone else was taking care of her. I’ve heard a few rumors about her, but for a kid who raised herself, I’m thinking she did all right.”

Ketch picked up his books. “Thanks for telling me the history, Dr. Monroe. I thought I had it hard in the foster system, but not like her.”

Before Ketch reached the door, Ben said, “You’ve been out there. You know how unique it is.”

“Yeah. When I fixed her porch I kind of felt like I was adding Snoopy on the cliffs of Mount Rushmore. You’re right, the house is a work of art.”

Ben smiled. “As far as I know, you and Sheriff LeRoy are the only two who have ever made it down that road. Too many ghosts and potholes for most people. Most folks in town have probably forgotten it’s there. Legends and midnight stories are only mentioned around firepits when camping out.”

Ketch looked back. “I don’t believe in ghosts, Professor, but I can testify to the holes in the road. I plan to fill them one at a time.”

Ketch waved. “See you Monday.”

Ben sat back in his chair and returned to thinking of his night with Jenny. He’d needed the sleep last night, but he would have given it up to be with her.

Her office had been silent all day, but he tapped on their connecting door anyway, just in case she’d dropped by.

When he packed up to leave, he found a note taped to his office door. The envelope was addressed to Dr. Benjamin Monroe. In a hurried hand Jenny had written, Have to think. Don’t call. See you Monday. VC.

She hadn’t even taken the time to write her name. His Jenny had left again. Only this time she’d left a note and said Monday. This time she’d be back. Ben walked down the two flights of stairs thinking that the note was a good sign. The “have to think” might be a bad sign, however. And the signing of her initials might just be the professional part. After all, he’d set that rule.

Ben nodded once to his reflection in the windows. He’d go to the farm, help his dad this weekend, and give Jenny her time. That would make sense.